


Panther of the Force

by SupaSoulja_X



Category: Black Panther (Comics), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21910633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupaSoulja_X/pseuds/SupaSoulja_X
Summary: This crossover has King of the Dead Black era Panther inserted into Disney Star Wars. He looses his KOD powers, but keeps his heart shaped herb powers, a suit, and some gear. He's also de aged to a teen. I'll be writing him more as Christopher Priest though. There will also be some EU material but not much.Warning language, Violence, Adult SituationsDisclaimer I don't own Marvel, Star Wars or any Disney property. This story is just for fun not profit. Please don't sue me.





	1. Chapter 1

June 3, 55 BBY (Adjusted Wakandan Calendar)  
North Western ‘Continent’   
A’l Har system, Harun Kal  
Grid Coordinates M-17 (Mid Rim)  
9:00 AM (Adjusted Wakandan Time)

In a lush grass covered field amidst a small copse of trees, the smallest of which was no shorter than 50 meters tall, a black and purple suited man stirred as if waking from a deep sleep. The sounds of his lungs clearing themselves disturbed a dozen of the Rot Crows who had been eying the stranger with interest. Said ‘birds’ with their membranous wings, were in fact much closer to their ancient pterosaur ancestors than modern birds. Each animal was nearly 2 feet from head to tail, weighed on average 10 pounds and had wingspans of 9 feet. The only thing these opportunist ambush carrion eaters had in common with the earth bird was the multi toned black color of their skin, a trait that allowed them to disappear among the canopy and frequently overcast skies of their home world. Well that an their 9 inch dagger shaped beak, capable of cracking a skull or flensing meat from bone.

The 5 foot 9 figure sprawled atop the nearly half foot grass sat up and ran his left hand across the ceremonial habit adorning his face and rubbed the back of his head. When his eyes adjusted to the relatively small amount of light that penetrated the dense canopy of tree types he did no recognize he gave thanks to Bast, the original name of the Panther God(ess) that he retained the basic gifts of the heart shaped herb. Once his low light vision and enhanced hearing revealed his new reality first thing he noticed about his new environment were the strange black lizard birds staring at him as though he were their next meal. He wondered just how long he had been there, and why such obviously large and numerous creatures didn’t simply claim their prize while it was unconscious. He couldn’t see or hear anything approaching, but years living in jungles, Wakadan and otherwise and among various circles of powerful beings taught him complacency was always a prelude to death.

The second thing he realized was that he, T’challa ex- officio king of Wakanda was now no longer the chosen of Bast as well. He no longer felt a connection to the realm of the Necropolis which meant the power and blessing of the being he had worshipped his entire life was no longer with him. Even worse he was so far away that the spiritual connection to his ancestors, the Black Panthers of old was forever lost to him. If what Bashenga said was true he would never recover either, for even the might of their love could not cross the chasm that now separated them.

The mighty king allowed himself a moment to grieve that loss. For all the times that he had been exiled from his land, stripped of his position, robbed of his powers or declared a criminal he hand never been forsaken, truly forsaken from either. Almost as visceral a loss was the separation from the family and friends he had built. It wasn’t easy for a man who had to bear secrets and the lives of so many others on his shoulders to find friends as great as he had. Though they had all perished in the last conflict, he had hoped to see them again in the reestablishment of the Universe.

He had so much to make up for with his sister Shuri and even more so with his former love Ororo. Part of him always warned the other to take more time to cherish those important to him but T’challa always believed there would be more time. That should he have it he could explain things to them, make everything ok and restore the trust and love necessity had forced him to strain. Once again he realized just how much those of high intelligence were capable of the self delusion Tchalla often laid at the feet of his friend Reed Richards.

The once lord of the many warring tribes of the technologically mighty Wakanda allowed himself another moment to reflect on how he go to this situation.  
_____________________________  
A while before insertion  
Marvel Comic Universe  
Void of Creation

They had won the Secret Wars, battleword was destroying itself. The last thing he remembered was defeating doom and grasping the reality gem. All was black, as though the universe had become a blank slate. There was no sound or feeling, it was neither hot or cold or even numb. As far as The King of the Dead could see there was nothing and it was peaceful. ‘So this is death’ he thought, perhaps he wouldn’t be able to be reborn with the others but at least he should rejoin the souls of his ancestors. He had fought as hard as he could and done the best with the tools given. Bast should have been pleased, he did all she asked and sacrificed more of himself in the process than he could ever get back. He had defeated her enemies and done his part in saving the cosmos, she should at least keep her part of the bargain!

T’challa was about to voice his displeasure with his patron deity and at the state of his after life when the power of his goddess reverberated in his soul and the scene before him changed into that of a savanna covered in deep green six inch grass. The sky above was filled with nighttime stars and in the center of the field was the baobab tree that T’challa had grown comfortable with as the backdrop for his spiritual quests.

The King of The Dead walked towards it and took a lotus position in reverence and waited for whomever would instruct him in his new tasks. He was a servant of the Panther god, even if he resented her methods or sense of humor at times after all.

“So you would dare to chastise me, my faithful if sometimes indignant servant?” The form in front of him was a hybrid black panther woman form. She was 5.7, full figured and draped in the clothes of a Wakandan queen. Her torso was covered in a multicolored robe which was open enough to display her curves without being provocative. Her feline face displayed a mix of curiosity, amusement and slight pique.  
Internally Tchalla sighed as he stood up and bowed before his deity. She brushed his head affectionately before he rose to look her in her eyes.

“A servant is worth of his wages.” He spoke the parable without rancor or accusation. It was just he wanted to go back and fix things as best he could with those he cared for. The destruction pain and lies of the Incursion conflict would not be settled quickly but rapprochement was possible.

“You are in a hurry to get back to your ex-wife and patch things up with your kin aren’t you? I understand that but I hope you aren’t blaming me for the state of your relationships with the living. After all you did push for this compromise as much as I did”  
He realized that the rift between him and his sister and wife were just as much his fault as hers.

“No Bast. I am man enough to accept the consequences of my actions. There were other ways to solve the challenges you laid before me, and I allowed my habbits to dictate my choices.” T’challa knew his faults of secretiveness and need for control had consequences he could not blame the Goddess for them. He wanted to be a king once more without harming his sister and Bast delivered on all she said she would and more.

“I see that death has not only made you wiser, it improved your humility as well. In a better world I would love nothing more than to reform you at the Necropolis and allow you to straighten out your mortal affairs.

However there are complications even I could not have foreseen. The circumstances of the battle make your resurrection very complicated. I unfortunately I had to call in some favors to help you stabilize thee Incursion incident and resurrect the universe. Like alls such loans there are consequences.” T’challa looked at his Goddess and took a deep breath in order to prevent speaking rash words.

“What kind of consequences? I can sense the old world was reborn, does it mean I will be confined to the Necropolis and forbidden from contacting anyone outside my duties.” If such were the case he could find proxies to deliver messages and hopefully find a work around whatever geass was now involved due to petty god squabbling.

Her cat ears retracted in the typical display of feline annoyance and she exposed the teeth of her left side. It could have been a threat display if He did not know her so well. She was angry but not at him, or at least most of her anger wasn’t directed at him.

“I see you still haven’t learned to truly listen. I had to borrow some power from a ‘godhead’ outside the plane of this existence and they now have a stake in this universe. It’s a long story but needless to say there are certain divinities greater than my pantheon. Sometime in the past the ruler of our dimension relegated his control to another being.

When you were facing your greatest test and reached for my power I was at my limit. Normally, I would have called on that superior. But unfortunately that godhead now resides outside our “Intellectual Property Rights Portfolio” for lack of a better way of saying it.

Oh I got the power we needed and the Universe has been restored. However the price is I have to divest myself of one of my greatest champions until such time as an equivalent service is completed. It/They said something about there being ‘balance’ required.”

“So you require a Black Panther to help them save or restore their dimension? I would be glad to help them Bast. Simply allow me to resolve my matters and I will..” She raised here hand to cut him off.

“I think you don’t understand. I permanently borrowed power from across a boundary. Power I used to help stabilize the new creation and thus I am obligated will have to send power across it to do the same for it/them. You and the other Panthers are in essence joined to me and thus are part of my energy. As you are my greatest champion and represent a large investment of my energy and will I could send you or a number of other past panthers.” T’challa’s anger flared.

“So this is to be emotional black mail Bast? I am not some trinket to be passed around. I have served you since I was small enough to walk. I lived and died for my people and your will more than once.” The rage of her voice returned and this time he knew it was aimed at him.

“And have I not repaid your loyalty? I elevated you to the King of the Dead when you wanted your crown back without harming your precious loved ones. A code I must remind you your ancestors created without my direction or orders. I deliberately chose you out of all your worthy ancestors. I chose your nation, I chose your tribe, I chose your family and then you for a reason.

You understood that to wear a crown means sacrifice. Its something I have seen you do without hesitation time and time again. However, I will not force you to do this Tchalla. No you should meet with 2 of your ancestors first.”

In that instant she was gone. In her place stood a man he recognized as his father T’Chaka. He was wearing a modern business suit as apposed to his traditional garb.

“Good day son” He bowed to his father before embracing him.

“It is good to see you.”

“And you as well. I trust you were briefed by Bast and are here to convince me to abandon my universe, family, my love..” The form he took, the 40’sh man he saw die at the hands of Ullysses S Klaw, laughed a great belly laugh.

“I did no such thing. That fussy old cat asked me to talk to you and I will. But I have no problem with going in your place and neither to about a dozen or so others. We have had our time in the sun and more than a few of us long to taste the adventure of live again!”

“But if you left our dimension your souls would be cut off from this place upon your deaths. You would also be separated from the Panther god and the soul of our people forever. That is not an easy choice!” He gripped his father by the hand. It seemed that the Panthers would be separated no matter what and that saddened him.

Tchalla had not visited the old man nearly enough times since taking his role as King of the Dead as he ought to. Yes he had called upon his wisdom, but he realized his habit of taking relatives for granted was something he never fully broke free of.

“Son, you remember the lessons I taught you. Of all of them what is the greatest? Of all powers what is the strongest?”

“Love, father love is the greatest strength for without it society does not exist. And the most important lesson you drilled into my head is the needs of the many outweigh those of the few. A king who can’t sacrifice his own life for his nation is unworthy of that title.” The old man smiled. Then he hugged his son once more before vanishing.

“Ho ho Beloved!” The King turned to stand before and beneath the dread giant holding the equally massive spear that shared his name. Bashenga the mighty, a 6. 7 wall of muscle, cunning and vision met him with mirth. T’challa bowed and was bowed to in turn by the former and first monarch of his nation.

“I take it you were among the 12 that volunteered to travel to this new dimension in my place.” The chocolate wall of muscle was dressed in very traditional garb. Namely a colored loin wrapping that hung in front of his person, a headdress that included feathers and various beads and precious stones and tribal tattoos. In his right hand the 7 foot tall Vibranium spear stood tall.

“Why of course my descendant. You earned your return to life and a chance to resolve your issues with your loved ones. It wouldn’t be fair to hold your love of your homeland and us old ghosts against you.

That is the reason you wish to return to life no? I presume you will go before them and apologize for your choices and repent of your methods. In doing so you would honor your words and place your relationships with them ahead of solving problems in your usual methods, even if doing so caused greater complications or burdens elsewhere.”

T’challa stopped for a moment. Bashenga wasn’t known as the wise but his understanding and intelligence were just as great as his skills with a spear or blade or command of a battlefield. He was about to be outfoxed and the modern king knew it.

“So what you are implying is that the world will not stop throwing similar challenges my way and I will likely have to chose between taking more risks with alternate strategies or alienating my loved ones all over again. Should I loose innocent lives over my own convenience it would eat at me just as much as my falling out with my wife or sister.”

“Not at all son. I’m merely stating that you are who you are and even should you choose alternate ways your relatives are who they are. If you had told Shuri what you were doing would she have chosen to avoid war with Atlantis or not confined you to your new kingdom? Would Ororo have not have had her own commitments she needed to honor if you had asked her to follow you with full disclosure? Would she have resented you less if you forced her to take actions with the full understanding how those moves, no matter how necessary for your noble interests caused harm to things she cared about?”

The current Black Panther deciphered his words. The people he cared most for were every bit as smart as him and loved him no less than he did them. Surely they understood he would not take actions he did without evidence and little choice otherwise. In retrospect the same was true with the actions they had taken which hurt him. Was it not another form of arrogance to assume that their rifts were all the result of his own actions and beliefs? People of good conscience and actions occasionally strove against each other.

It wasn’t the first time he and Ororo had broken up after a reunion. There were deeper reasons that kept them from forming an eternal bond. His sister was a queen and ultimately she had been right about Namor. Even if it was not morally optimal to harm innocents in war a king or queen’s ultimate mandate wasn’t preservation of their reputation but protection of their people. That was more important than the ties between siblings. Both of those women still loved him and he they, but perhaps things were as they wore because there was no better way under the circumstances. He turned to continue speaking but Bashenga was gone.

Panther sat down in lotus position and thought. The past, recent and ancient swirled in his head, in his very soul. The King of The Dead communed with the spirit of his land and the stories he learned from thousands of lifetimes. He felt himself live the greatest accomplishments and most secret shames of his ancestors and those who drew breath in the land called Wakanda. He was not sure just how long he had sat there. Time had no meaning where he was and he could not have cared if it did. He glowed and felt the love of each and every Wakandan who dwelled with Bast from the highest King to the lowest peasant. When he was done the light faded and he stood up. He spoke softly with urgency but also with respect.

“Bast” She showed up in her cat hybrid form once again. This time she was smiling. The damned know it al was almost purring with smugness. Tchalla frowned and spoke.

“You will relay a set of messages for me before I depart.” She actually smiled then.

”Done”

“Before I leave you will provide me with mission details.” It wasn’t a question. The smile almost faded with that comment, but T’challa knew she would comply. In fact the goddess was a little too smug at times.

“I can’t give you a full set of details, but you will face evil capable of destroying planets. Further, you already have enough information to fully complete your tasks, once you can verify its authenticity.” Her tail twitched and he face moved with enough irritation directed at her godly creditor to know that was all the king was getting. He knew better than to dig for more.

“You will lose your title as King of the Dead and connection to myself, however you will retain the abilities granted by the heart shape herb and you can attain powers similar to the ones you lost should you prove yourself worthy of them. I can also allow you keep your suit, standard gear and one piece of equipment. Further you will be reduced in age to that of a 15 year old. Don’t look at me, that’s what it/they wanted.”

From there T’challa made a series of recordings and when done handed them to the goddess. She smiled sadly and took him by the hands.

“Thank you for being such a devout follower. I know our relationship has not always been easy, but I am happy to have worshipers like you. I will miss you.” Then she kissed him on the lips and he knew no more.  
_________________________

June 3, 55 BBY (Adjusted Wakandan Calendar)  
North Western ‘Continent’   
A’l Har system, Harun Kal  
Grid Coordinates M-17 (Mid Rim)  
9:14 AM (Adjusted Wakandan Time)

With a another breath he brought himself to attention. Years of mental discipline, combat training and spiritual attunement had taught him to compartmentalize and suppress emotional distress. Survival was paramount and according to his god and ancestors he had a lot to do. Besides, compared to those permanent losses his physical changes were as his American friend Steve Rodgers said ‘small potatoes’. The fact that his body had regressed to that of his fifteen year old self actually did not bother him all that much. He still had his suit, his brilliance and all the natural skills of the Black Panther. The very things that made him one of the deadliest men in the universe of his birth. Of course that he was no longer in his universe became apparent when his increasingly less scrambled hyper senses informed him of the approach of something predatory. The ‘crows’ decided that they did not want to be this close to the clash of an unknown with a known predator and flew off to find an easier meal.

The Wakandan turned to see the approach of a bizarre sight, which he would later learn was called a Vine Cat. His journeys across dimensions and the galaxy had let him see many kinds of alien life but the cat like reptomamal attempting to creep up on his position was new. It had a Brood like, reptilian fish face that had foot long horns growing from its head and jaw. It’s lower mandible was too large for its face with a noticeable hooking under bite. Said jaw was full of triangular sharp teeth didn’t do it any favors in the attractiveness department either. On first glance it was about 4 feet high, but the Black Panther realized it had yet to stand erect meaning it likely was at least 6 feet tall and about 9 feet in length, not including the 7 foot tail that at least was 8 inches in diameter at the base. Yeah that wasn’t another weapon in addition to the 6 inch claws attached to its four limbs.

Said Vine Cat soon realized it’s approach had been discovered and decided to rush in before its prey could escape. The normally taciturn and highly disciplined warrior, philosopher, innovator and poet allowed himself another moment of expression as he spoke “Spirits of my Ancestors!” before reaching for an energy dagger that refused to ignite.


	2. Chapter 2

June 3, 55 BBY (Adjusted Wakandan Calendar)  
North Western ‘Continent’   
A’l Har system, Harun Kal  
Grid Coordinates M-17 (Mid Rim)  
9:18 AM (Adjusted Wakandan Time

Panther was shocked, not by the near half ton fanged beast leaping in his direction and seeking to make a meal out him. T’challa had faced hundreds of such beasts in Wakanda and even more while traveling with the Avengers. It wasn’t even the squeaking pre adult voice that radiated from his vocal chords, for he had been de and rapid aged on more than one occasion. The fact that weapons he had designed built and tested wonked out on him for no apparent reason that gave him a cause for deep concern. Would all of his gear stop working in what clearly was an alien environment with possibly hostile natives of unknown capabilities?

But he was the champion of Wakanda, and succumbing to such panic was not for him. He dropped the useless blade and entered a fighting stance instead of futilely reaching for another and hoping for a different result. The Vine Cat’s leap missed him by less than four inches as the speed and precision decades of training and mortal combat kicked in. He unsheathed his own claws and ran them along the beast as it past, hoping to maim the creature enough to cause it reconsider its actions. The anti metal Vibranium claws of the former king scraped along the hide of the beast, but even his enhanced strength amplified by the cats’s speed and momentum did little more than cause a few inches of penetration in its thick hide. The beast released a roar of fury as its greenish yellow blood stained its striated verdant hide.

Of course the Vine Cat was not without the ability to retaliate and as any Harun Kal native would know its tail was just as deadly as its claws and fangs. It roared as the creature swatted the ex king with its grey green appendage and lifted him into a large pitch black tree 6 feet away. The Vibranium weave soaked up the energy of the first and second impact, but did little against the disorientation of vertigo or concussion as the warrior slammed into the thick tree slightly right of center.

Tchalla shook off that discomfort and righted himself as the distended lower jaw of the Vine Cat twisted its face into a frown of menace. That beast wasn’t going anywhere until it got a taste of his flesh. Judging the strength of its skin, its claws seemed more than strong enough to rip his suit and thus him into any number of pieces. As much as he disliked the idea, he would have to kill this strange beast before he did the same to him. The beast walked toward him with a slow gait, its tail high in the air in the same manner Hercules was wont to wield his mace. It was cautious and not willing to risk further injury in a rash attack. Pather’s experience as hunter informed him that the beast likely believed Tchalla was injured and as most lions would wait for that injury to take its toll before engaging.

For his part the former king realized that strategy and decided to play along. He allowed his left shoulder to drag slightly as he mimicked the circling motion of the green cat lizard in front of him. The computer system inside his suit informed him that the creature was approximately 1900 pounds and morphologically at least 9 years old, confirming his suspicions of its veteran status. Tchalla realized he would likely only get one shot at taking it down. Hoping that his Vibranium pouch protected his sensitive equipment from what he suspected was some kind of airborne bacteria he reached into his ‘utility belt’ and pulled out a flash bomb with his ‘injured’ hand.

Another three steps and Panther let his left foot drag half a second longer than he had the first time. That was all the hungry and angry creature needed to move in for the kill. As it leaped at him the king detonated the flash pellet causing the creature to both veer off course and roar in pain. Most creatures who lived in low light environments were especially vulnerable to bright lights. Unlike T’challa this soon to be ex Vine Cat did not have Vibranium laced lenses that sheltered its sensitive eyes and went crashing into the same tree that T’challa hit at full speed. Also unlike the former king the lizard cat did not have Vibranium armor that allowed it to negate the force of impact and its skull left a nice two inch indenture in the tree.It would recover quickly but that was all the time the Wakandan needed to reach the final piece of equipment his goddess allowed him to take with him.

The Vine Cat shrugged his massive shoulders as it lurched to its feet to end the hunt of the strange looking two legged mammal. It had spent the last two day hunting for its next meal after being driven from its old hunting ground by two other Vine Cats. He was bigger than either one of them, but the brothers had taken position on either side of him and wisely he decided on the better part of valor. Since that time pickings had been scarce and his hunger had been incessant. This strange two legged black thing was already proving to be more trouble than it was worth. However, Vine Cats had high meat requirement and this snack would provide the energy it needed to find proper prey. Ignoring the blood dripping down its face and the bits of tusk and teeth embedded in the tree behind him it shook the confusion from its face to look in the direction his nose informed him the pray was. The beast’s mind thought it strange it was wasn’t running as animals with that abilty usually did so. Amusement was its second to last thought as its eyes regained focus and stared at the weird looking stick in the prey’s hands.

Its last thought was confusion as it found itself flat on its back a second later when a blue light struck it and it was lifted into the air. The pain of the spear as it bit into his neck and through his brain was too brief for it to record.

T’challa removed his spear from the creature and considered the best way of butchering the beast. Fortunately it seemed the bacteria, no fungus that ate metals on this world did not have any affect on Vibranium or on sealed systems. He thanked Shuri wherever she was, that the standard vibrospears were almost completely made of Vibranium and hermetically sealed. His lenses entered microscopic mode and he observed a great deal of tiny activities. The stone hilts on his knives would actually be stripped down practically within the hour. In fact all of his non Vibrainium metal components were at risk to aforementioned accursed microbe. It seemed that this world would likely be non technological unless someone found a counter agent or they used advanced plastics or unique metals here.

As T’challa used his spear’s head like a knife to remove the hide and some steaks for traveling he contemplated his surroundings and the unique properties of his this world. Observations of the sky and his suit’s instruments informed him of few facts. The day lengths here were 25.5 hours which likely meant its yearly cycle was 383 days, slightly longer than that of earth. A few more minutes told him the diameter of the planet, 10 thousand kilometers or about one fourth of his home. He could see that there was more than one moon in the sky and calculated he had maybe another 6 hours of daylight. Using the skin of the beast as a bag he loaded his meat and the usable parts of the creature and started walking. He decided on going Southwest, where he assumed he could find potable water. His spear stayed clutched in his right hand and his senses alert for danger.

He made camp in a tree after cooking some of the lizard cat meat. He had to choose a different wood to burn after he started feeling woozy when his first choice was lit. So not only was there technology eating fungus here, some of the plants were so poisonous that they couldn’t’ even be burned. Speaking of fungi, there seemed to be at least two different kinds. One that ate most metals rapidly and another that ate silicates. Though it seemed likely there had to be some rocks that were immune to the affect. Otherwise this planet would make even less sense than it did already. The altimeter and his senses informed the son of T’chaka that he was actually on a planet where life was elevated significantly above what he would have called sea level. Of course that made little sense as anyone living that high above the mountains would have significant breathing troubles, unless gravity was actually lower on this planet. He decided to worry about that after he got up in the morning. The heightened senses granted by the heart shaped herb would wake him at the slightest danger, and thus the exiled king of a tiny African nation went to sleep.


End file.
